


forget the champagne

by nightbloomings



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:09:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbloomings/pseuds/nightbloomings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You ever gonna stop smiling? Look like a loon…” Chuck says as he takes the champagne from Yancy.</p><p>Yancy chuckles. “Honestly, probably not.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	forget the champagne

Yancy’s glad that Chuck seems to remember the way back to their suite, because he’d have been of no help. His head’s swimming in champagne and wine and a couple whiskeys, and love—love for his life, for his recently-extended family, and most of all, for the guy who’s standing a few inches in front of him, fumbling in his pocket for the room key.

“Here,” Yancy says, pressing flush against Chuck’s back. “Let me give you a hand or two…” He slips his hands into Chuck’s pockets and digs his fingertips in a little before actually helping to find the keycard.

Chuck scoffs but he stills and lets Yancy’s hands wander. He even leans back a little and presses a quick kiss to Yancy’s temple when Yancy reaches forward to unlock the door.

And once they’re inside, he pivots and presses Yancy into the door as it closes behind them, kissing him hard and urgent. Yancy smiles into it, wondering vaguely how his cheeks haven’t seized up yet after smiling all damn day, and he kisses back just as hard, curling a hand into the hair at the back of Chuck’s head.

“Mm, y’know—” he says abruptly against Chuck’s lips, “there’s more champagne in here. Asked earlier for some to be sent up.”

“Really? ‘Cause I can still taste the stuff you drank straight from the bottle earlier on your lips,” Chuck drawls as he pulls back, swiping his tongue across his lower lip as if to illustrate.

Yancy shrugs and pecks Chuck’s left dimple, and slips past him into the suite. The champagne is on ice, accompanied by two flutes and a platter of strawberries, macadamia nuts, and large cubes of marshmallow—which will make for a good snack later. He reaches for the bottle and quickly pops the cork with a towel and pours. When he turns to hand Chuck his flute, Chuck’s already shrugged out of his suit jacket and is unbuttoning his dress shirt, and Yancy can’t help but smile at the sight. Chuck’s skin is tanned and his cheeks are a bit flushed from the celebrations, and when he catches Yancy smiling at him with the outstretched flute he—

“You ever gonna stop smiling? Look like a loon…” he says as he takes the champagne from Yancy.

Yancy chuckles. “Honestly, probably not.”

Chuck smiles back, then, and leans in to give Yancy a quick kiss before sipping his champagne. Yancy takes a quick sip of his own and then sets it down to take off his suit jacket. As he starts unbuttoning his shirt, Chuck heads for the balcony.

The balcony overlooks the hotel’s private beach, dotted with tall palms, and the ocean beyond. It’s quiet and secluded, and exactly what Yancy was hoping for. He follows Chuck outside and they rest their elbows on the balustrade, leaning into each other.

“Good day, huh?” Chuck says after a while, looking away from the view and at Yancy.

Yancy nods and leans a little further into Chuck. “Yeah, good day.”

And it was—as quiet and easy-going as they’d planned: with Raleigh, the man of honour; Jaz, the best maid; Tendo and Mako to round out the rest of the wedding party; and of course, Max the ring-bearer. Herc, Stacker, Alison, and Tendo Jr. were there too, and according to Stacker, Herc’s eyes were dry for all of 30 seconds—a generous estimate, Alison said.

Chuck answers with another kiss, slanting his lips against Yancy’s, and Yancy decides it’s time to get on with it. He pulls away from Chuck and reaches for his flute, setting both on a small table between two lounge chairs. He reaches for Chuck’s belt first, working his pants open and down in one quick movement, and he kisses his way down Chuck’s chest in the next.

Chuck leans back against the balustrade and groans under his breath when Yancy takes him in hand, and then he groans again a little louder when Yancy’s tongue circles his tip.

“Y-Yance… what are you— what if someone—” And then his head dips back, his hips canting towards Yancy.

Yancy pulls off and looks up at Chuck—his cheeks are even more flushed than before, and his eyes are a little wide.

“There’s no one down there, it’s fine,” he says, working his fist lazily up and down Chuck’s dick. “Besides, you can’t give us a balcony like this and expect me to _not_ suck my husband off on it…”

Chuck scoffs. “Oh, for fu—” he starts, and then his voice cuts off into a low whine when Yancy swallows him down. He tightens a hand into Yancy’s hair and starts to guide the pace, and before long, he’s bucking his hips up to get deeper into Yancy’s mouth. It doesn’t take long for Chuck’s breathing to turn ragged and his hushed moans to turn into mewls, and Yancy figures that, clearly, _something_ about being on display must work for him.

Then Yancy draws back and focuses on the head of Chuck’s dick, and Chuck breathes out an, “oh, _fuck_ , Yancy,” and Yancy has just enough time to swallow him down again before Chuck’s coming at the back of his throat.

“You’re completely bats,” Chuck mutters when Yancy stands after a minute, shaking his head a little.

“You love it,” Yancy says with a wink. “And me.”

Chuck bites his cheek to hold back a grin. “Whatever. Hand me my champagne.”

Yancy shakes his head and takes Chuck by the hand as he heads back into the suite. “Forget the champagne.”

He half-expects some sort of retort out of Chuck, but instead he gets Chuck’s hands pressing up and under the collar of his dress shirt. They undress quickly, leaving their clothes in a pile, and Yancy could almost spare a thought for the cost of the dress pants alone, but the linen’s already wrinkled from the day as it is.

Chuck lies back on the bed and stretches out while Yancy goes to retrieve the small bottle of lube from his toiletry bag. They kiss hard and rough when Yancy kneels between Chuck’s legs and that suits him fine because this has been building all day, only being able to look and just barely touch. He kisses Chuck again, sucking hard on his tongue, then his bottom lip, then the soft skin of his neck, as he works Chuck open as quickly as he can. It doesn’t take much, because even if it’s been a _long_ day, they’d still fucked that morning.

Chuck sighs and groans as Yancy presses in, arching his whole body into it, and Yancy can’t help but lean down and lick and kiss his way between the freckles across Chuck’s tanned chest. Chuck wraps his legs around Yancy and urges him into a sharp, frenetic pace that Yancy settles into easily. He snaps his hips against Chuck with each thrust, gasping against Chuck’s lips when he pulls his head up for a kiss—and then Chuck moans, loud and rough, when Yancy angles his hips down just so.

“Yeah, Yance, just there, right there, keep—” And then he groans, throwing his head back and bearing down on Yancy as he drives deep and aims for that same spot again.

Yancy’s panting, his hips pistoning. “So gorgeous,” he says between breaths, and then Chuck braces a hand against the headboard to keep his head from hitting it.

“Fuck, Yancy,” Chuck grinds out, his voice hoarse and strained. “So fucking good.” He reaches down between their stomachs and wraps his free hand around his dick.

Yancy’s right on the edge then so he slows his pace, wanting to finish Chuck off first, and he leans up to kiss at Chuck’s neck, his jaw, his cheek, wherever he can reach. Then Chuck turns his head and catches his mouth full on, and he comes for a second time, sighing against Yancy’s lips.

Chuck moves his hand from the headboard and into Yancy’s hair, carding through it slowly. “Come on, love,” he says in a whisper before kissing Yancy again.

And Chuck sounds so sated and relaxed that Yancy’s done for—he thrusts slow and deep into Chuck again until he’s as flush against him as he can get, and he lets go, coming with a low groan pressed into the crook of Chuck’s neck.

They lie together for a few moments as they come down until Yancy rolls off. He presses a kiss into Chuck’s shoulder and then sits up, reaching for the white towel swan that they’d nearly kicked off the bed. He snaps his wrist, unfurling the swan, and wipes across his stomach.

“Yancy, did you just…?” Chuck says behind him, sounding genuinely surprised.

Yancy chuckles and pulls himself back up the bed, handing the towel to Chuck. “What? I’ve given it an actual purpose in life.”

Chuck huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, tossing the towel towards the bathroom. He lies down and curls into Yancy’s side, draping an arm across Yancy’s hip. “Again, you’re crazy,” he says, and when Yancy inhales to reply, he adds, “but you’re right, I do love you.”

 

 


End file.
